Show me, don't tell me, You've figured out the score...Show me, don't tell me, I've heard it all before...Show me, don't tell me, I don't care what you say...Show me, don't tell me...You can twist perceptions, Reality won't budge...You can raise objections, I will be the judge...And the jury...I'll give it due reflection, Watching from the fence...Give the jury direction, Based on the evidence...I, the jury...Show, Don't tell

Sep 1, 2007

Spanish Sunrise, Muhammad Ali, Bronco Billy, Marky Mark, gay porn, and Carrie Underwood's publicist

Ever put down 48 bags of decorative rock? Let me tell you, it sucks. My knees are raw, my hands hurt, my back aches, and for some reason, my calves are sore. If I didn't know better, I'd think I just spent the weekend at Mama Squintz' condo. Anyway, the rock looks good. A nice, colorful volcanic-type mixture. It's called Spanish Sunrise. Coincidentally, that's also the name of my favorite sexual position, so there was absolutely no way I was going to pass it up.

And what do my 48 bags of Spanish Sunrise have to do with football? Nothing really. Except that I needed to get it done before football season starts. You see, once the regular season begins, the To Do List gets mothballed until springtime. Seriously, last year I had two things still on the list when the season began- "re-seal the patio" and "buy new underwear". Niether got done and I ended up with a crack in the patio and spending Novermber through March going commando. You try shoveling the driveway with frozen jiblets. Not good times.

This year, the only things left on my list are:
1) Fix Savannah's playscape ladder (I tried to climb it and broke a rung. Genius.)
2) Change the oil in the Accord
3) Get a haircut

The way my week is shaping up, it's a pretty good bet that a shaggy-haired Smitty will be carrying his daughter down the road to the emergency room this fall. If you see him, please take pity and give him a ride. Did I just refer to myself in the third person? Sweet. Ricky likes when Ricky talks like that.

Moving on...

(Thursday Night)

Saints at Colts-
This could be one of those "hand the torch" kind of games. Are the Saints ready to take over as the league's best offense? Probably. Then again, they could very well handle the torch like Muhammad Ali did back at the Summer Olympics in Atlanta- all shaky & trembling with a blank look on his face.
Hell, I know, straight to hell.

Falcons at Vikings-
It's Joey Harrington versus Tavarius Jackson, this Sunday on Fox!

Panthers at Rams-
Mark Bulger, Stephen Jackson, Torry Holt.....maybe this is the best offense in the NFL?
And they may just have the hottest cheerleaders, too.

More on this is the upcoming weeks as we explore other strong entries from the Bucs, Niners, Broncos, and Dolphins.

Broncos at Bills-

I must've watched this movie 126 times the first summer we got cable. It was on HBO something like six times a day for the entire summer. It was a shit movie, even for Eastwood, but I'd still rather see it for the 127th time than watch JP Losman struggle for 60 minutes.

Chiefs at Texans-
Last week it was reported that the Texans are offering a $15 discount on jersey purchases in their team store to anyone who trades in their Cowboys jersey. I'd like to right now, publicly make a similar offer. I will give $20 off any one of my world famous oral massages to any large breasted member of the Texas Bikini Team who turns in their thong at my team store.

The line forms to the left, ladies.

Dolphins at Redskins-
So let me get this straight. Last year, the Dolphins passed on Drew Brees and instead signed Daunte Culpepper. This year, they passed on drafting Brady Quinn (presumably becasue he's gay) and instead signed Trent Green. They then proceeded to release Culpepper and go with the concussion-prone Green with Cleo Lemon as his backup.
I think I speak for all Dolphin fans when I say "AAAAAAAAAAARRRRGHHHH, Fuck me in the blowhole!"

Patriots at Jets-

J! E! T! S! Suck! Suck!! Suck!!!

Eagles at Packers-

I'm not psychic or anything but I think Mark Wahlberg is gonna have a huge game.

Steelers at Browns-
The Romeo Crennel Farewell Tour begins this weekend in Cleveland, Ohio.

Titans at Jaguars-
Light blue pants, teal tops, black-spotted cat prints, a big cheesy mustache.... Is this an NFL game or a gay porn flick?

Bears at Chargers-
Have I ever told you guys about the time my college roommate banged Marty Schottenheimer's daughter? Yeah, it was- SHIT! Um.....I uh forgot that......you know.......well isn't this just great.......uh....hmmm......whooooh......Hey look, it's a Charger Girl!

Lions at Raiders-
Jon Kitna's ass gets handed to him, this Sunday on Fox!
Hey Jon, WWJD on third and long against this Oakland defense? He'd shit his fuckin' loin cloth, that's WJWD.
Peace be with you, sir.

I know, I know, Hell. Dammit, that's twice in one post. Somebody get me a communion wafer and a confessional, Stat!

Bucs at Seahawks-
Quick, name three Tampa Bay players.....
Quick, name three brands of tampons.....
Scary, huh?

Giants at Cowboys-
Let me be the first to welcome Tony Romo back to earth. Now that teams have had time to gameplan for him, how many bad games until Carrie Underwood's publicist releases a statement saying that "...Carrie and Tony are no longer a couple. The strain of touring and rehearsing just made it nearly impossible to sustain the relationship..."?

(Monday Nighters)

Ravens at Bengals-
WARNING: I will be tailgating for approximately 6 hours in the PBS parking lot before the game. Since I cannot and, according to a legal court document I have here in my hands, will not be held accountable for my actions, do not, I repeat Do Not cross my path Monday Night doing any of the following:
- wearing a Ravens jersey, jacket, hat, t-shirt or onesey
- handing out "Vote for Hillary" stickers or buttons
- sporting Daisy Dukes or a nicely filled tube top
- asking for spare change while holding a sign that reads "Why Lie, I Want Beer" Seriously, if I see that lame, same-schtick-for-ten-years-now hobo, I will skull him with a shovel.

Cardinals at Niners-
Damn the Niners. Damn them straight to Hell!!!

Now if you'll all excuse me, me and this ice cold Miller Chill are headed to the backyard to admire some niceley spread out 480 lbs of Spanish Sunrise.
Hasta lu-eggo my eggo, my bruthas.

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